


Lost in Paradise

by Zephryn



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Angst, Community: pacificrimkink, Eventual Smut, F/M, Hero Worship, Love/Hate, Raleigh is a Unisex name, Slow Build, and maybe not-quite hatesex later on, boy!Jazmine, girl!Raleigh, hatesex very probable, may have Sentient Jaegers, mistaken gender identity, unsure yet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-22
Updated: 2013-07-30
Packaged: 2017-12-21 00:21:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/893621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zephryn/pseuds/Zephryn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Response to a <a href="http://pacificrimkink.livejournal.com/350.html?thread=219998#t219998">Prompt on the Pacific Rim kink meme.</a></p><p>Raleigh Becket lost her brother but she refused to lose Gipsy. Labeled unable to Drift with another person, she chose the life as an Instructor to aspiring Pilots while taking her time trying to repair Gipsy and deal with her own issues post-Yancy, especially when dealing with a cocky, upstart named Chuck Hansen.</p><p>Things might have been easier if the world knew exactly which Becket died that night. Or that it wasn't a duo of brothers piloting Gipsy Danger but a brother and <i>sister</i> act.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Expect this to be canon compliant in future parts. And with smut. Maybe a lot of smut. Hopefully a lot of smut. 
> 
> Tags will be updated as needed.

She doesn't know where she's going. 

Or rather she doesn't _care_.

Salt water fills her helmet, through the cracks and broken shards that once comprised her glass facial shield. There's water everywhere, embracing her like a cold lover or a vengeful rival with a dagger's tip pushed part way already into her back.

There's a pulse of pain from her abdomen but it's nothing compared to the sheer _emptiness_ in her mind. 

(Gone, gone. He's gone. Yancy, oh _God_ , Yancy. 

No, no, no; fucking hell no. Come back, damn it. Come back here, you shithead. Don't leave. Don't you dare leave. God, _please_ \--!

 _ **YANCY!!**_ )

The void created when her brother was ripped from her side, hand thrown and fingers outstretched but too far from her reach. The scream of his pain, his terror, his guilt and finally the quiet whisper of his resignation was the only thing left. The last imprint Yancy gave her as Death tore him from her, leaving her with nothing but the echoes of his mind until they, too, faded into nothing. 

Left arm numb, she walks and ignores everything but the never ending wail that is a mix of her own keen and her brother's final breath. Ocean surrounds her and chokes her with its icy hold. It's in her mouth, her heart. It seeps into her like the blood seeping out of her wounds, staining the white of her suit.

She swallows, gags and near-vomits. The weight of Gispy pulls her down more toward the ocean depths even as she treads onto higher oceanic ground. Each ton might as well be her own, rather than the support system of levers and hydraulics that make her movements Gipsy's own. Everything is pushing down at her and her vision blurs with tears intermingling with the sea that already filled her cockpit, the very same water pouring through the crevices of her helmet. The same ocean that might drown her if she gave a damn.

She doesn't but survival instincts honed over generations of evolution propel her forward until it's sand and not rocky sediments under Gipsy Danger's feet. 

Together, they fall onto their knees until Gipsy collapses with a loud thud. Sand goes everywhere and she falls out of the supporting arm that kept her upright. The broken edges of her helmet nick her cheeks and she tastes the tang of blood mixed with sea water in her mouth. She screams and chokes harder, gasping as she pushes herself up with one hand, the other arm only a dead weight. 

(Dead and gone, just like Yancy. Just like the other half of her soul.)

Time passes by until she's crawling out from underneath Gipsy, stumbling onto her two feet. She takes a step and then another. White noise fills her ears. She feels her mouth moving but can't hear the words. She doesn't know she's murmuring (yelling) her brother's name over and over again. Tears flow and her throat is suddenly raw. There's someone beside her, mouth opening and closing. Gaping and shutting with intention but she only stares at him until it's Gipsy that catches her attention.

She winces, flinching hard as spikes of pain surges up her spine and she glances down and stares unbelieving at the wound there. Blood pours into her hands and she falls back onto her knees like before.

The wind blows and she sways right. The stranger is at her side but he's nothing compared to the waves of nothing that the void in her mind conjures.

Her head tilts back and Raleigh falls, her brother's name the last scream on her lips before darkness encompasses everything.

Until all that remains is the Void.


	2. Chapter 2

She wakes up with scream.

Except that's not true. It can't be. Not really. 

(When did she stop? She couldn't have stopped screaming. She never stopped screaming.)

The only thing she hears is her own heartbeat, erratic with each dull thump-thump- _thump_. 

The roar of the ocean waves against the shoreline is nothing like what is filling her ears right now. The muted pounding is more fearsome than even loudest rumble of thunder during the harshest squall on the open sea. A roar of that damn son of a bitch Kaiju--Knifehead, a voice in the back of her head supplies--may be the only thing more frightening. 

(And it was; no, that's not right. It _is_ the only thing that could scare her out of her wits and leave her frantic and seizing. The only thing except the sight of her brother being ripped out of the Conn-pod, mouth moving and arm outstretched toward hers; there one second and gone the next.)

Her mouth is open, plastic is digging into the edges of her mouth, her cheeks. There's bright lights, blinding her with an endless white while blurs of blue rush at her from either side. There might have been a blob of yellow, brown and what could have been black. Dots of blue and hazel but none of that registers.

For a second, Raleigh thinks she's back in the snow, half-buried and alone but snow on sand is never as plush as a mattress, even one as firm as the bed beneath her. And there's no hands clutching her shoulders if she was out in the open. No nails digging hard into her shoulders with enough force to make her wince.

Grasping at those hands, her head turns. The screaming is finally dying in her throat despite her constantly wailing, her endless thrashing. Soon she's only gasping and muttering two syllables, one word. It's a name. His name. Her brother's.

_Yancy._

Over and over again. A mantra that she can't stop now that she's started. It'll take too much effort to stop and there's a part of her that doesn't want to. A part of her that thinks if she keeps saying his name, he'll answer her. Despite all odds and impossibilities, he'll answer back and tease her for being overdramatic before tearing her a new one about recklessness and stupidity then giving her a hard slap on the backside of her head like he always does when she's being a little piece of shit instead of the golden girl Mom and Dad used to parade around.

Raleigh blinks furiously, despite the blurred vision caused by white ceilings, bright lights and hot tears. She reaches out, fingers stretching but even in her terror, she knows instinctively that it's only one arm that's moving. Just one and it's her right arm. Only her right with digits twitching and nerves creating spasm after spasm. She can't feel her left arm. It's not moving, reaching, stretching. It's doing _nothing_ , no matter how hard she tries to focus, to concentrate.

It's useless. 

Unresponsive. 

Gone. Gone. _Gone_.

(Like her brother. Like half of her mind--half of her _soul_.)

She thrashes anew, head whipping from side to side. The hands on her shoulders turn from mildly bruising to crushingly painful. Eyes dart from one corner to the next. Her left arm takes a swing and bashes against something, _someone_ , but she ignores that and tries her best to move. To get up. To escape. To run. 

She needs to go. Now. She needs to find him. Yancy. He's still out there, in the damn ocean. She needs to find him and make sure he was alright. That he _is_ alright. That everything that happened is one big nightmare and she imagined everything, the attack, that Kaiju, his--

A needle pricks her arm and it all goes black.

* * *

Raleigh wakes up with a start, eyes snapping open.

The lights are dimmer. There's a blanket covering her from neck to toe, light and thin, but it's more for the thought than the warmth. Despite the ice frosting the edges of the windows, it isn't cold. It's warm, too warm but her limbs are too heavy for her to move and the blanket is stifling. Groaning, she turns her head and jerks when a heavy, warm hand reaches for her shoulder.

"'Bout time you woke up."

She blinks and stares, tears brimming. "Yan--"

"Not quite," Jackson Becket might have been able to hide his wince from a stranger but not from his younger sister. Definitely not his younger sister. "Believe me, I wish I was but," his smile falters, cracking for the briefest of moments, "Not quite. You'll just have to live with the disappointment, Rawls."

"Don't," she swallows, voice hoarse and throat desert-dry, "call me that."

Fingers curl tighter on her shoulder, the mattress beneath her shifting while Jackson raises and adjusts the back enough to let her sit up proper. The blanket spills into her lap but that's an afterthought to the sudden surge of pain that races up from her hip to her shoulder. Her _left_ shoulder. Her fingers twitch and she fists her hand, nails biting as hard as teeth on her lower lip while eyes clench tight.

She shouldn't be here. She shouldn't be alive. It should have been Yancy. 

(Why did it have to be Yancy?)

"Hey, eyes up and on me, Raleigh. Or I might think you don't like your big brother." A snap of fingers and her eyes pop open. Jackson's smile widens but his grip clenches even more. This close to his face and Raleigh can just read how frail he looks. How dark the bags under his eyes are. How _old_ he looks despite only being just a few years, not decades, older than her. "You know how much I want to be the center of attention."

"Says the Becket who hide under tables on birthdays," Raleigh's lips twinge and she shifts, wincing when more sparks ignite in her shoulder.

Two fingers smack at her forehead, causing her to almost jump out of the bed in surprise, "I'll have you know that was one time. One time and I thought they were going to get me."

"Who? The waiters? Mom? Dad?"

"Aliens. And Yancy with a handful of cake in one hand." Jackson's eyes brighten, his free hand reaching out to brush his sister's bangs out of her face. "You know he was gunning for me back then. Always did. If I remember right, it was mostly your fault he kept coming at me, you little sneak."

"Not. My fault."

"Yeah, yeah, keep up that innocent act, I know better. You can't fool me one bit, Rawls. Not like you could with Yance," his smile grows more genuine, fingers stroking the side of her face.

Raleigh bites back her tongue, leaning into her remaining brother's caress. It's the same face she remembers but the smile is all wrong. It's Jackson through and through. Yancy had more of a crooked grin, a cocky smirk that came out when he knew he was right and he always was. He was the better of them both. The natural. The goody-two-shoes. The pride of their family.

Her and Jackson, they were everything else. The tomboy and the smart aleck, know-it-all. The just _good-enough_ and the _too-smart-for-his-own-good_.

If Jackson was healthier, he would have enlisted. That much she knows. If his asthma wasn't a problem (or the constant migraines, the allergies, the sudden blood sugar spikes and drops), it would have been him Drifting with Yancy. They were twins, identical in every way. She was the next best thing, the girl who outgrew her Barbies and preferred her brothers' G.I. Joes.

Family was one of the strongest bonds for Drift Compatible pilots and Yancy was more than just her brother. He was everything to her.

To Jackson.

Her breath's slow and shaky but she closes her eyes and tries. Her cheeks feel wet, heart pounding harder than ever despite the heavy weight of ten tons resting on her chest. "...Sorry."

"For what? Living?" Jackson scoffs, grabbing a hold of Raleigh's chin. "Don't ever apologize to me about that. You're here. Alive. That's so much better than the alternative. Don't you even dare think otherwise. Or I'll kick your ass so hard you won't even remember that I'm a walking over the counter pillbox.

"Just. Don't go there. Don't make beg either. Not when you're all I have left. It's just you and me now, Rawls. You and me. And we Beckets? We stick together, thick and thin.

"If anyone needs to apologize. It's me, I was the one who told you about my new job. The offer I got with the PPDC. Could've done my thesis on something else but no, had to pick the Jaeger Program's Drift as my topic." He huffs loudly, the easy-going grin turning quick into a scowl. "As if that was the only thing an aspiring neurologist like me could do a paper on. There was dozens, hundreds other ideas I could have used but instead? 

"I just _had_ to pick the program that my brother and sister would want to join just so they could stick close to me. A program that got my _twin killed_!" His voice rises, the calm playful demeanor finally cracking and showing its faults. His eyes close tight and nostrils flare, teeth bared and clenched. Jackson's head snaps to the side, a growl rising in his throat.

"Jackson." Raleigh's fingers curl around her brother's wrist, weak but not lacking in intention, "We joined... because it was the _right_ thing. Not because you pushed us."

Her eyes close. "We joined to save people and we... we did. We saved lots of people and we were good at it." Maybe not the best. (Not anymore.) "It wasn't your fault."

"Maybe not but, you two wouldn't have even _thought_ about the Jaeger program if it wasn't for me." Jackson sighs heavily, free hand raking through the same blond hair that Raleigh has, that Yancy had. It's longer than Yancy's had been. Always was but that's expected from someone who is more scientist than soldier. "God, Rawls, I don't even know how you're still _alive_. You should be--"

"Dead? Yeah, I know." Or in a coma but here she is, alive and talking. Weak but growing stronger by the minute. Such an impossibility. "How... long?"

Just how long has it been? She can't remember. It still feels like it was an hour ago, a minute ago when Yancy was ripped out of her reached, out of her head.

"A week. You had us pretty scared back there. Your neuros were off the chart. Still are, actually." Jackson's gaze drifts to where Raleigh knows where her medical charts are. "They're nothing like they were before. When you were _out_."

"But?"

"I don't know. I really don't know. It looks like you're still," Jackson swallows, hard and his eyes stay diverted, no matter how long Raleigh stares at him, " _connected_. It's like you're still in the midst of a Neural Handshake, Rawls but that's... That's impossible."

It's her turn to dodge her brother's inquisitive stare, to shift and fidget under that questioning gaze. "We were... connected when Yancy... I felt him..." Her lips tighten, head shaking, "Where are we?"

"Anchorage. Providence Medical. You got the Jaeger back to the coast. Don't even know how you could. Not when you just. Forget it." Jackson's face cracks into another false smile, "Concentrate on getting better. I bet you want to see GD asap. Tendo mentioned they're trying to get her back into tip-top shape and you'll be as good as new.

He coughs, clearing his throat, "Make that better as new." His grip tightens before he stands up.

"Get some rest, Raleigh. It's my turn to take care of you." The grin on his face brightens and it's almost enough that Raleigh can believe he might actually mean it this time. "I've got you up for too long. You need rest. Lots of it and then? Then, we'll go from there."

Bending over, his lips brush against Raleigh's temple.

Sighing softly, face turned toward the window, Raleigh asks, "You really think that? I'll be as good as new?" It's her turn to scoff. "I'm a Ranger without a co-pilot. I just went _solo_. I might as well be a ticking-time bomb. No one solos and stays sane. No one. And Jacks?" She swallows, the lump in her throat almost too big to go down. " _I can't feel my arm_."

"It's still there isn't it?" Infuriatingly, her brother smirks like a cat who caught the canary. "Give it time, it ain't dead yet. You're not dead yet. You still got it, Raleigh and I still got you. You got me. We're Beckets, remember? If there's one thing we're all good at? It's surviving. We survive to live. Isn't that what Mom and Dad always told us?"

Her eyes roll, "Mom and Dad are dead, Jacks. Have been for years." Died long before the world even knew the Kaiju existed, in a car wreck just a few months before the attack on San Francisco. "Pretty sure, they'd sing a new tune if they saw those monsters and how they ripped Gipsy Danger apart."

"Except they didn't. She's intact and so are you. That arm of yours, it's still attached. It's not dead, Rawls. Trust me, I'd tell you if it was." Jackson grasps her shoulder, her left this time, fingers tight and forceful. 

Raleigh blinks, spine stiffening. "You just got to let it heal. You're not damaged, Raleigh. You survived the impossible. Remember that. Yance... He'd want you to _live_."

Her throat tightens and her cheeks feel wet. Jackson's thumb is rubbing off one cheekbone. 

"I never," she licks her lips, voice soft and barely a whisper. Gulping, she tries again, hating the way her voice cracks, "H-He never finished what he was going to say, Jacks. That bastard took him before he could finish it. I never... I never heard what he'd wanted to tell me, Jackson. I-I..."

Gasping, she heaves loudly, grasping her brother with her one good arm. She feels, rather than sees, Jackson's flinch but he doesn't protest. He just wraps his arms around her shoulders and Raleigh sobs into the medical scrubs he's wearing. Her voice breaks, breathy whispers quickly turning into gasp-filled shrieks. "He's dead, Jacks. H-He's _dead. My brother's dead_! And I couldn't do _anything_ to stop it! Nothing, I could... I, I... _felt_ him _**die**_!"

Jackson's lips brushes the top of her head, his murmurs soft. "I know. Believe me I know but you're not. You're not dead. Thank God you're not dead. Let it out, Raleigh. Just let it out."

Tears leak out, harder than ever and she cries, clinging desperately and Jackson just let's her, oblivious to his own tears staining his cheeks.

* * *

By the time the tears refuse to come, she's already asleep with the salt of her tears still on her lips. Jackson stares at his sister and adjusts her blanket before he stands up and turns. He leaves quietly and ignores the tall male standing in the hallway in a military uniform befitting only a Marshall.

Stacker Pentecost doesn't bother to peer inside the room, instead favoring to follow the elder Becket out with hands clasped behind him and head held high.

Together, they walk to an unused office where the door shuts with an ominous sound. 

Pentecost wastes no time, "Your assessment, Mr. Becket?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jackson is _clearly_ my interpretation of Jazmine Becket who is only mentioned in the Novelization. Of course, I switched things around by having Jackson being Yancy's twin and Raleigh being the youngest.
> 
> Also, FYI, I may be changing the title of this to something more fitting later. Regardless, thanks for the Kudos everyone and the kind comments! :D


End file.
